


Aglow

by 3amscribbles



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 23:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amscribbles/pseuds/3amscribbles
Summary: "Your speech," Robert clarifies. "It was more than enough."aka; reaction fic to the second wedding.





	Aglow

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the fact that I completely ignored what's canon and let them spend a night in the Mill before they went on their honeymoon, I had an unshakable picture of this in my head and am forever inspired by rain.

It’s fall, now. The temperature has dropped and the clouds carry a permanent tint of grey whenever they roll around. Robert can’t see them, now, but he doesn’t have to see anything in order to tell that it’s raining. Fall has put the sun to rest early and brought a bit of wind with it tonight, and the rain’s smattering against their bedroom windows. The drops are probably inviting themselves inside, too, perching delicately upon the windowsill where the windows are open to let some fresh air in.

”It was more than enough,” Robert says, soft to the ceiling, the windows, the rain and his husband who is very much not grey, not a single shade of it. More yellow, orange, _the sun_ – put to rest in this bed, not by fall but by Robert. His _husband_ , officially.

There’s a pause, then. A moment cradled by the silence that is everything but quiet, interrupted by their breathing, by the wind and the rain and the thudding of Robert’s pulse spelling out Aaron’s name in his own ears.

It’s matched by the pulse in Aaron’s wrist; a gentle, rhythmic thumping against the pad of Robert’s thumb where it’s pressed to the inside of his husband’s wrist. Aaron, Robert, _them_.

Aaron blinks, then. Robert can feel the sweeping of lashes against his bare clavicle where Aaron’s got half his face pressed against the skin, and the very sensation of that sends Robert’s entire body off kilter; makes it forget to breathe, briefly, and then struggle through a gulp of air while trying to process why intimacy with this man can still be so thrilling after four years of having it.

The blinking is the start of a process – the beginning of Aaron coming back to the reality of their bed, their bedroom and his place draped along Robert’s side. Once Aaron has blinked some more he starts to scrunch his face together, seemingly making sense of Robert’s words and putting them into a bigger picture that makes him tug his wrist away from Robert’s thumb in order to shove him without force. That wrist is exhausted – as is the rest of him where he remains more or less boneless on the bed, limbs lean and heavy and smooth against Robert, skin warm and comforting against Robert’s own.

“Fuck off.”

Something’s left Aaron feeling offended; the emotion is there in his tone even though it mostly falls flat due to how tired he is. Robert furrows his brow in confusion, patting his own chest down impatiently until his fingers catch on Aaron’s arm and can encircle that wonderful wrist once more.

“Hm?” he utters, turning his head to breathe against Aaron’s forehead. “No. _No_ , what the – as if I’ll ever think that sex with you is anything less that mind-blowing, Aaron, what the hell.”

Aaron scrapes teeth and stubble over Robert’s collarbone – sends shivers from that spot down to the very base of Robert’s spine and makes his cock twitch with reluctant interest. He could come again, he thinks. Could do it lazily, pressed against Aaron’s hip, as long as Aaron looked at him, breathed against his skin like that, dragged teeth over it to scrape out their love where it will show like a tan. The sun in this bed, kissing him.

“What, then?” Aaron grumbles.

Robert tilts his chin down to look at his husband properly, and sees that Aaron has closed his eyes again, drifting in the ebb and flow of his sleepiness, seemingly entirely content where he is. Robert kisses his temple. Smiles against it, and can hear Aaron hum out a breath of satisfaction – grumpiness already fading away again, settled by Robert’s assurance.

“Your speech,” Robert clarifies, settling with his nose in Aaron’s hair, his thumb against the net of veins on the inside of Aaron’s wrist where the skin’s soft, where it was never physically touched by Aaron’s thoughts in the past. “It was more than enough.”

“It was stupid,” Aaron mutters. “I’m no good with words, but I should have done better than _that_.”

Robert’s having none of that. “You said that I make things better. That I helped getting you through this week, and I’m just so glad that I was here for it. That I’m with you. Because just the thought of what an Aaron a few years ago would have done on his own in order to cope during a week like this hurts like hell.”

Another pause, longer this time. The rain carries on, let loose as though the sky was simply holding its breath during the ceremony and could finally let go once happiness had settled in their vows, in the village’s common happiness.

Then there’s wetness on Robert’s skin. Warm; not the rain. Aaron, emotional and beautiful and Robert’s, dealing with the words that his husband just spoke.

“You get it,” is what Aaron gets out through thick syllables, tilting his head up against Robert’s shoulder so that they can look at each other. His skin really is glowing in a delicate, warm shade of orange, cast in the light from the bedside lamp and lit aglow from the inside, from the depth of his immeasurable heart. “Me.”

Robert thinks of his own speech, briefly. About what Aaron’s been for him, about being seen for who he truly was for the very first time and realizing what it was like to breathe, all thanks to this man. His man. His husband.

He leans down for a kiss, two, three of them, and a murmur of, “Like you get me. Both senses of the word. All of me.”

Aaron laughs into his mouth, bright and gorgeous. And Robert loves him.


End file.
